


racing on the thunder and rising with the heat

by badboy_fangirl



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Background Relationships, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-09-06 13:54:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8754649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badboy_fangirl/pseuds/badboy_fangirl
Summary: Kara and Mick run into each other in a bar...and it goes exactly like you'd expect after that.





	1. isn't there a supergirl to sweep me off my feet?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [leobrat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/leobrat/gifts).



> **Spoilers:** Everything through Supergirl 2x08 and DC's Legends of Tomorrow 2x07, with speculation beyond that.
> 
> Title and quotes lifted from (and some slightly tweaked) "Holding Out For a Hero" as covered by Ella Mae Bowen. This is for leobrat because of conversations...and I haven't written fic in over a year, so go easy on me. Chapter two will have the sex, because even with PWP, I have to have ~reasons.

_I'm holding out for a hero 'til the morning light  
He's gotta be sure, he's gotta be soon  
And he's gotta be larger than life_

When Kara opens up the portal and zips through to Barry's Earth, she isn't thinking about what she'll do when she gets there. She just knows she has to get away from her Earth, and all its complications.

Nobody's called her for months to say there's a problem and _this is a job for Supergirl._ She's glad they're safe, but she could really use a distraction right now.

Mon-El, it turns out, does remember the kiss they shared when he thought he was going to die, but he hadn't been man enough to say so…until yesterday when she started confiding in him that she was romantically interested the Guardian. Part of her thought it was kind of cute, that he seemed insecure, but the larger part of her thought it was pretty darn annoying. 

On top of that, _James_ was the Guardian. Alex had apparently known for a while, and accidentally let it slip two days earlier when Kara mused about the fact that when she and Mon-El fought together these days, rarely did the Guardian show up. Kara found herself angry with her sister for keeping the secret, but now that she knew, it was a complication that had brought a lot of feelings with it.

Feelings she thought she'd lost a long time ago.

James had saved her many times, and seemed content to never take credit. On top of that, he obviously didn't want to be partners. And that hurt her more than she could explain. 

She and Mon-El teamed up all the time, and had had lots of successes, but the Guardian only showed up when Supergirl was about to have her ass handed to her, which happened from time to time. He always got her out of dire situations.

It meant something to her, and her affinity for the Guardian had been growing over the last several months. Alex had teased her ages ago that she seemed to have a crush on the Guardian, and silently, she'd agreed. There was something sexy and special about the unknown.

Now she knows who it is, though, and all the sexy and special feelings she once had for James Olsen have returned full force. 

The last thing she wanted to do was ask him if he was interested in trying it again, because what if she got to the moment of truth like she had before, and she lost the feeling again? 

(Or she just simply chickened out, which might have been what happened to begin with. She doesn't like thinking of herself as cowardly.)

On Barry's Earth, she finds a bar and walks in with her head held high and demands a shot of Jack Daniels. She doesn't know why, except that maybe she'd seen it in a movie or something. Or maybe it's just something Kara Danvers would never do, and that's why she does it.

She drinks it all at once, the way she's also seen in the movies, and it burns all the way down. So then she begins choking.

"Nice," a deep voice rumbles from down the bar.

She looks over, now wiping at the sudden tears that are stinging her eyes and sees the very last person she would have ever imagined sitting there.

"Mick?" she asks, her voice rough.

"How ya doin', Skirt?" He lifts his own drink in a salute towards her and then tosses it down the hatch like it's no big deal. 

(So, it's not just in the movies.)

"What are you doing here?" she asks, moving down the bar to sit next to him. "Shouldn't you be--" and she lowers her voice to a whisper, "--in 1950 or something?"

"We're taking a breather," he says with a shrug, motioning to the bartender. When the bartender fills his glass again, Mick says, "Leave the bottle."

Kara feels her eyes widen. He's a big guy and she supposes he can hold his liquor, even if the Earth's sun doesn't regenerate his cells quickly to prevent hangovers, but the bottle is more than half full. She reaches out to him, placing her hand over his. "Is everything all right?" she asks.

When she'd met Mick and the other Legends (and Team Arrow, and Barry's friend Cisco), he'd been more than a little gruff and rude with her, but ultimately he had proved to be all bark and no bite. She still sometimes pulls out the memory of his strange request for her to call him only to dismiss what that sort of thing would mean on her Earth. Mick was older, somewhat grumpy, but still attractive. Kara just didn't really think he could have meant it; he must have been teasing her.

His skin is warm under her palm, however, and when his eyes fasten on hers, she mistakes his grin for a grimace. "Whaddaya mean, is everything all right?"

She glances at the bottle of alcohol. "It just seems like you'd only drink all of that if you were upset."

His grin gets broader and she realizes it is simply a grin, nothing else. "Honey, this is for the both of us. You need to learn to drink like the superhero you are." His eyes run over her features and then he reaches over and plucks her glasses from her nose. "First things first, lets get rid of the accessories you don't need." After he sets them down on the bar he leans over again, and pulls her ponytail down, removing her hair tie. "Give your head a good shake now," he instructs.

She does it, mostly because she can't believe this is happening. He gives her an encouraging head nod as her hair falls in waves down her back. Then he reaches over one more time and unfastens the top button of her blouse. "Yeah, much better," he rumbles. "You've got like a sexy secretary thing going on now."

When he fills her shot glass with another round, she finds that the burn is a bit more enjoyable the second time.

 

When Supergirl walks in, Mick is surprised, but also instantly thrilled, to see her.

(And by thrilled, he means his dick starts to perk up.)

He also, for the life of him, cannot remember her actual name. 

She sits down with him and as he plies her with whiskey, she starts telling him all her troubles. Boy troubles, that is, back on her version of Earth. 

Mick listens, mostly because her skin is soft and has this healthy glow, and her eyes are bright, but are slowly becoming unfocused as she drinks. They've settled down to beers now because three shots had her looking a little too woozy. He sure as hell didn't want to hold her pretty hair while she was puking. He had other plans for how to get his hands in her hair.

Because, _Jesus_ , her fucking hair. It looked like gold silk, and the more she talked, the more he imagined it draped over his body, in various ways, because of various activities they could be enjoying together.

Her lips were also ridiculously distracting.

He'd had a thing for her when they'd worked together, but he hadn't really expected to see her again. 

But of all the bars, in all the _worlds_ , she'd walked into his. Well, not _his_ , but he had been shutting this place down for three days straight, since the Professor had felt he had to come home and spend more time with his Aberration Daughter before they fixed that particular problem. So, for all intents and purposes, this was his bar. And if he had his way, for this night, she'd be his girl.

"Sounds like what you need is a man," he says, no subtlety needed. Not that Mick could be subtle, even if he'd wanted to be. But he doesn't. He wants Supergirl, and he wants her to know he wants her. 

He doesn't want her so drunk she can't make a decision, either, which was why he'd switched them to beer and let her talk for the last hour without doing more than grunting his acknowledgements.

Her eyes get wide and she stops talking, staring at him. He can see the wheels turning, can see how she is understanding what he's throwing down, but that she's also uncertain. He can't tell if that's uncertainty about wanting him back, or uncertainty about his seriousness.

He's pretty fucking serious. He hasn't been with anyone in a long time, and lets be honest, he'd like to fuck a superhero. Vixen and Sara both had these Team Policies, as if sex would mess everything up, and while Mick couldn't care less about that, he had always respected the No Means No policy. He'd made his plays for both of them and got the rejection card, but he didn't take it personally. 

Supergirl buries her face in her beer mug. "Um, hum," she mutters, giggling shakily. She tips the glass up and drains what's left.

"Look, Skirt, you came here for something, didn't you? Didn't think it'd be me, but why look a gift horse in the mouth? Just be grateful. Take me up on the offer. Don't think. What happens on other Earths, stays on other Earths."

He winks, and she giggles again, but this time there is less nervous school girl and more flattered woman.

She glances around, and he watches her chest rise and fall on a deep breath. When she turns her gaze back to him, it has the feel of a physical impact smacking him, and he remembers she has x-ray vision. He is now at full attention and hopes to God she is going to roll with this, otherwise, it's gonna be a miserable fucking night.

Her cheeks color as she asks, "Where would we go?"

He jumps off his stool, throws down some money, and grabs her arm. "Come with me."


	2. oh, his approach is like a fire in my blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...this always happens to me, it gets longer than I plan. So this is a three parter.

_i''ll meet a hero_  
And then we'll dance 'til the morning light  
dreaming, he'll lead me  
held tight,  
tonight's the night 

Kara Danvers has never done this.

(Had a one night stand.)

 

 

Mick Rory used to do this all the time.

(Take a girl home with no intention of ever seeing her again.)

 

 

Kara's fingers weave through Mick's when he slips his hand down to hers. She gets the impression he's never held hands with anyone ever, because despite his other smooth moves, this feels a bit awkward. She clenches her hand tight against his and he makes a humming sound in his throat, tossing her a little smile. Her heart catches at that, despite the gracelessness of his hand. 

 

 

Mick leads her to the fancy hotel he's been staying in two blocks up from the bar. He's grateful his tastes have grown a little swanky in the last year, because he could never take this girl to some of the hovels he's lived in. She's too pristine for all that, and he feels like the luckiest bastard alive. Her body moves closer to his as they walk, and he's counting the seconds until he has her alone.

 

 

(Kara Danvers thinks of Mon-El, the one who can't say what he wants to her James Olsen. She doesn't miss the parallel. Maybe this is just the thing she needs to be brave enough to go home and say what she wants.)

 

 

(Mick Rory is going to fuck Supergirl's brains out. This could be the biggest time aberration they've ever faced.)

 

 

They step into the elevator in a hotel that is nicer than anything Kara's seen back in National City, and she opens her mouth to comment on how beautiful it is. But the elevator doors slide shut, and they are alone, so Mick turns towards her, backs her up to the wall, and kisses her instead.

It's in that moment that she understands what he meant when he said _you need a man_. Nobody's ever kissed her like this. 

Then it's over and he lifts his head as the elevator dings and the doors open again. She still can't speak, though, because even though his tongue isn't in her mouth anymore, she's breathless and speechless. He looks into her eyes, the same gleeful smile he'd thrown her way as they walked here painting his lips. "This is going to be so hot," he announces, grabbing her hand again and tugging her after him down the hall to his room.

He slips the card key into the slot and the door opens up. Inside the room, a king-sized bed sits. The view of the city is broad, as the whole west wall is floor to ceiling windows, and all the lights are coming on as the sun has set. Kara has a flash of herself against those windows, looking out as Mick takes her from behind, and she's sure her already flushed cheeks must flame even brighter.

(She has never had thoughts like that ever, about anyone. Then again, she's never known anyone like Mick.)

She stands in the middle of the room, suddenly unsure, but burning up at the same time. She's not going to be able to blame this on alcohol, or claim she doesn't remember it once she's done it. 

"Hey, Skirt," he says, and his voice throbs through her, keeping time with the beats of her heart and the pulsing between her legs. "Don't renege here, okay? Do me a solid."

She turns to look at him. He's slipped his jacket off, but he's just standing there, looking more vulnerable than she's ever seen him, even when he was being threatened by aliens. She bites her bottom lip and shrugs her shoulders slightly. He moves closer to her and cups her face in one large hand. "You're a fucking wet dream, you know that, right?" His thumb tugs at the divot of her chin, pulling her lip from between her teeth. He just stares at her mouth and her heart starts thumping even faster. 

She doesn't think she's supposed to respond to his question, but the answer is _no_. She knows she's pretty, but she's always thought that was actually the sun's fault, nothing particularly special about her.

He cocks his head as he watches her. "Think of it as saving the world, one more time. Some good sex is gonna mellow me out, keep me off the streets and outta trouble."

Kara finds herself smiling, finds herself thinking he's his own kind of beautiful, finds herself throwing her arms around his neck and plastering her lips to his. Mick's hands slide down her back and cup her ass, pulling her feet from the ground. Her only option is to wrap her legs around his hips, but she thinks that's what he was going for anyway.

He walks them to the bed and spins around so that as they land, he's under her. "They call you the Girl of Steel, right?" he asks, tucking her hair behind her ears. Kara nods. "Does that include your lady bits?"

Kara snorts. "You scared?" she asks, charmed to her soul by his flirting.

He shakes his head, and lifts up under her, in case she had missed the erection in his pants. "Hopeful," he replies, his deep voice even lower.

She rubs herself over him, grinding down as he's thrusting up. Mick whimpers a little, hissing "Ah, fuck," as he closes his eyes in obvious enjoyment.

"Let's find out," she whispers.

 

 

Mick gets the vibe that Supergirl hasn't done a lot of kissing. She's not completely clueless, but there is definitely some hesitancy. Her tongue is shy to meet his, but with a little coaxing, they are doing some nice trading back and forth. She rubs herself against him like a cat in heat, though; that part is 100% instinctual, and she's good at following her instincts.

She reaches down between them and cups him through his pants, giving him a little squeeze that makes a groan rush up his throat and fall out of his mouth as he pulls away for some oxygen. He falls back on the bed, lying flat and she stays upright, moving sensually over him as her hand undoes the button and zipper.

He reaches down to still her hand and her eyes come up to his, wide with surprise. He wonders if she thinks he's dumb enough to call a halt to what they're doing here. Which, _no, he is not._ "It's just me under there," he murmurs. "Not an underwear kinda guy."

She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and continues to unzip him. She eases her hand down inside the front of his pants and makes this keening sound as she wraps her hand around him. He's sort of mesmerized by her, and thinks he ought to be the one making pathetic noises, especially when her thumb drags around the underside of his cock, but he's holding his breath, caught by the rapture on her face, unable to make any sounds of his own.

Her lips part, her tongue darts out, and he surges in her hand. "You're, um, kinda… _large_ ," she whispers and she opens her eyes to peer down at what she's holding. "Good Lord," she breathes.

Mick laughs, because his breath has returned enough for him to get something out. "I'm sure you can handle me," he says, and then he puts both hands on her legs and pushes her skirt up. It's a flowy, gauzy thing and moves easily. She _is_ wearing underwear, but when his thumb finds the crease of her thigh, he can feel the heat he craves. He runs it up and down the crotch of her panties and she jumps and moans, her hand tightening around his cock in a matching stroke.

"You're a fucking goddess," he says, watching her eyes fall shut again as he rubs her. He slides his thumb under the edge of her panties and dips it into what he can't help but think of as the Pussy of Steel. Then she moans his name in the sexiest fucking way he's ever heard it.

She rocks forward and says, "Please," in a high-pitched voice that nearly ends it all for him.

"These have got to go," he mutters, reaching up and yanking the lace at her hip until he hears a tell-tale ripping sound. Once he's got the underwear out of his way, he pulls her forward and there is absolutely no easy going about it; it's just her holding him in her hand and him positioning her and then she's sinking down and he's inside her and he starts making a whole lot of noise, from grunts and groans to every curse word he's ever known.

Fucking a superhero is just as spectacular as he guessed it would be.

 

 

Kara has never had sex where they didn't get their clothes off because they were in too big a hurry. She'd been with guys who were self-conscious, and didn't want to get naked in the light. Okay, one guy, this super nerdy guy who had been in her college journalism class, who she dated for a few months. Usually guys were like Mick, completely confident, even if she couldn't see why.

Mick deserved to be confident. She could feel how hard and toned his body was beneath his clothes, and it wasn't that she hadn't wanted to see it. They had just, well, gotten all the way there really fast.

In fact, Kara is still sitting on top of him, trying to catch her breath after an electrifying, if quick, orgasm. His giant hands are resting on her upper thighs and his eyes are closed as he too breathes heavily.

That's when she notices that the shirt he's wearing is a button-down. 

So, she unbuttons it.

He cracks open one eye at her. "Little late for that, doncha think?"

Kara pushes her hands from his stomach up over his pectoral muscles. He's very, very fit, and she likes it very, very much. "You only good for one round?" she shoots back, but she blushes as she says it, which probably ruins it completely. 

He chuckles again and his eye closes. She takes a deep breath, thankful he's not looking at her. "You ever been with a guy over 40?" he asks. "It takes a little bit." Suddenly both Mick's eyes pop open. "Uh, this is little late, but should I have used a condom?"

Now Kara giggles. "No worries, I use birth control. And it works," she adds unnecessarily. "My biological system is very similar to a human's, and--"

"Don't care, Skirt," he interrupts. "As long as you're not gonna come calling in a few weeks looking for a daddy."

"Oh, god! No! No, of course not."

He gives her a half smirk. "As long as we agree," he says, and he sits up so that their faces are close together. "The baby makin' process is a lot of fun, but we aren't makin' babies." He holds her gaze as he starts unbuttoning her shirt. "Just returning the favor," he murmurs, his knuckles brushing against her breasts as he does so.

Kara's breath, which had returned to normal, suddenly speeds up again. He pulls her blouse from the waistband of her skirt and pushes it off her shoulders. Then he reaches around and unhooks her bra. He drops the bra to the floor behind her and never looks down, even when his thumbs brush her already stiff nipples. Kara's sharp indrawn gasp is involuntary as is the way her neck weakens and her head falls back on her shoulders. 

"Supergirl has super tits," he rumbles, his hands cupping and squeezing her gently. "Big surprise," he adds on a whisper just before he slides one arm under her ass to lift her up to his mouth. 

Kara cries out as his tongue laps delicately at her. There is a strange dichotomy between how big and rough and tough Mick is and what a sweet, tender lover he is.

Suddenly Kara finds herself on her back, looking up at him as he looms over her. "Here's what we're gonna do," he rasps out. "I'm gonna kiss you all over, and make you scream a little, and by the time I'm done with that, I'll be ready for round two. How's that sound?"

She blinks, anticipation racing through her. "That sounds amazing," she says breathlessly. 

 

 

Mick's second orgasm care of Supergirl does not happen via her Pussy of Steel. Instead, it's her lips sliding down his cock and her hair spread out over his stomach. He's never come so hard in his life.

 

 

Kara revels in power like none other she's ever known. Leaping buildings in a single bound, blasting through concrete barriers with her heat vision, not even flying so fast that she overcame gravity and slipped out of Earth's atmosphere from time to time could prepare her for how insanely satisfying it is to have Mick's cock in her mouth while he shouts out some litany of swear words that would make anyone blush.

 

 

If anyone ever asked him, he would not say that the best part of fucking Supergirl is watching her lay with her eyes closed on the pillow next to him. (Her hair is _fucking beautiful_.) He would _never, ever, EVER_ say that. Doesn't mean it's not the truth.

 

 

Kara snuggles down into the bed, one arm and one leg thrown over Mick. She can hold him here if she wants; she can _make_ him stay. Turns out, she doesn't have to. She falls asleep to the gentle snores issuing from the tired man next to her.


	3. where's the street-wise hercules to fight the rising odds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I never meant for this to take SO LONG to finish. Christmas came and interrupted me and then I lost a bit of my groove just because I haven't been writing much the last few years. But then this picture popped up yesterday and it inspired me to finish up this whole thing. Because to me, Mick Rory will always be the one who coined the term 'Pussy of Steel.'
> 
> https://pmctvline2.files.wordpress.com/2017/01/womens-march-benoist-steel.jpg?w=620&h=420&crop=1

_i need a hero…  
she's gotta be sure, she's gotta be soon  
and she's gotta be larger than life_

So, Supergirl likes to snuggle. Mick would find it annoying if it weren't so goddamn cute.

He wakes before she does, and honestly, he needs to get up to take a piss, but moving away from her seems…wrong. And that thought seems _nuts_ , so he only manages to carefully remove her and slide out from beneath her by an iron self-control when what he wants to do is dump her and run.

Mick Rory doesn't do relationships even with girls who live on his planet. He sure as hell isn't entertaining the idea of one with a literal alien from another planet twice removed. 

But still. She looks fucking gorgeous while she's sleeping, so he gently lays her back on her pillow. Then he pads his way into the bathroom and relieves himself. While washing his hands, he splashes some water across his face and then looks at himself in the mirror. 

He looks younger. Fresher. Like he just got laid. Like Supergirl just, you know, rocked his world. A half smirk creeps across his face. What the hell is her name?

He moves quietly back into the bedroom and looks for her bag. He finds it and then checks to make sure she's still sleeping. Swiftly moving to dig through it, he finds her wallet and flips it open to look at her driver's license.

_Kara Danvers._

It hits him then, the memory of her introducing herself, because it's not what it looks like. It's kind of a hoity-toity pronunciation, like the word car with an a on the end. He remembers his disdain when he met her the first time. All blonde hair and straight white teeth and enthusiasm of the _let's save the day!_ variety. 

He finds himself grinning now, because fuck him if those aren't all the things he likes best about her. Well, that, and her blow job prowess, because let's be real, who would have guessed that?

"Are you stealing from me? I don't think there's much money in there, and I'm not sure it's even good on this planet." 

His head jerks up to see her propped up on her elbow, watching him from the bed. She doesn't look like she really thinks he's robbing her, due to the small smile turning the corners of her mouth upward.

"Um, uh…" He can't come up with something and he feels unbelievably stupid, which isn't the feeling he wants to have while naked in a room with Supergirl. Out of nowhere, he finds himself saying, "Just wondered how old you were. How much of a cradle robber I am." He gives a fake, half-hearted laugh, trying to be self-deprecating.

Kara narrows her eyes at him and adjusts the sheet she has pulled artfully over her luscious breasts. "You could have just asked. How old are you?"

He tosses her wallet back into her bag and slides across the floor so he's kneeling next to the bed. "Forty-six."

Her eyes widened slightly as if she didn't think he was _that_ old.

"Yup, old enough to be your daddy without even being a teen dad." It shouldn't be, considering the conversation, but his dick is once again perking up just from him looking at her.

She reaches a hand out and caresses his cheek, then runs her fingertips down his jaw, across his chin, and up to his bottom lip, which she delicately traces with one fine nail. "You don't look that old, and that's probably because you really take care of yourself."

He huffs out a slight scoff at that, because he knows how much he drinks, but he does eat fairly well (when on the WaveRider), and he does work out regularly. He doesn't say anything though, because he's a bit mesmerized by her hand on his face. 

"Your lips are really cute," she murmurs, almost to herself, staring as she runs her fingers over both of them.

Perhaps the mesmerizing goes both ways.

Mick slides his hand across the edge of the bed and draws the sheet away from her body. "You have really cute everything," he rumbles, leaning down to take a swipe at one of her nipples. She moves her hand, and he flicks the pink, pebbled flesh with his tongue. She gasps and her hand moves around to the back of his neck to hold him to her.

"I could really get used to this," she sighs as he gives her nipple a little tug with his teeth. She arches into him and his cock goes rock hard painfully fast. He pushes her back, mostly so he can get up on the bed, too, and her legs scissor kick the sheet the rest of the way off her body.

"Hmmm," he replies, his lips closed securely around her breast. She gives a keening cry as he moves his hand between her legs to find her open and dewy for him. He lifts his head and says, "Too bad we don't live on the same planet."

He doesn't mean to say it. He knows it's loaded with all kinds of meaning that he doesn't really intend to back up, but in the moment it feels like the only true thing he knows. If he lived anywhere near Supergirl, he would be fucking her brains out every chance he got.

Their eyes meet and she smiles. "Guess we better make the best of what we've got," she says, and she wraps her hand around his cock with deliberateness. She pumps him twice and then her thighs fall open in invitation. "Fuck me, Mick," she breathes and he knows, due to the brightness of her eyes and the red color that floods her cheeks and chest, she has never said that to another human being ever.

He does as the lady requests. Call him old fashioned.

 

 

Heatwave seems like the perfect superhero name for Mick, Kara thinks dreamily as she lies underneath his hard body and attempts to catch her breath. He burns her up from the inside out.

If she were five years younger, this little dalliance would convince her that she is 100% in love with him.

But she knows, she's not. She's 100% in lust with him. And who knows, in another life, it might have been something greater.

(Maybe if she can't figure out the boy problems on her Earth, she'll move here and have man problems instead.)

Mick presses his lips against her shoulder and then gracefully rolls off her. He is sweaty and sated and he throws a hand up over his eyes as he lies next to her. "You give good love, Kara Danvers," he says on a breathless undertone, and it suddenly occurs to her that he had never said her name the entire 12 hours they've been together.

"Were you looking at my age on my driver's license, or my _name_?" she demands, suspicious.

He lifts his arm to shift one eye towards her. "What? Of course, I knew your name! I was wondering about--"

"No, no, no! You called me 'Skirt' or 'Supergirl' this whole time."

He chuckles and drops his arm back in place. "Well, I'd rather call you Pussy of Steel. Is that kosher?"

She just stares at him, dumbfounded. When she remains quiet a couple beats longer, he lifts his arm again, this time turning his head so he's looking at her full on. "What?" he asks when he sees her face.

She bites her bottom lip. "That should offend me, I think."

"But?" he asks, frowning.

"I kind of like it," she says, feeling strange. She sits up and looks down at him. "Like, if anyone else said it, I'd punch them through a wall, but when you say it…"

"It's a compliment. Believe me. You've given me a new lease on life. If the other Legends are ready to head back to space tomorrow, I'm good. I'm ready. I can fight ninjas or Nazis, or whatever I gotta fight. I've been in the Pussy of Steel. Multiple times. And it was hella good." 

Kara can feel herself turning red, _again_. She needs to get out more, obviously.

"What about me, you gonna go back and tell your boyfriends you fucked Heatwave?"

"Uh…probably not. It's none of their business."

"Well, it oughta be. There oughta be some poor schmuck back on your Earth that would move mountains to be with you and kick the ass of a thug like me who's got no business being in the Pussy of Steel."

Kara takes Mick's hand, lacing her fingers through his. "That's not true. I invited you into the… I invited you. I wanted you to, you know...you had business being there."

"Say it," he says, and a grin spreads over his mouth, lighting up his whole face.

Kara shakes her head, and her red cheeks must be maroon by now.

"I wanna hear you say it. Come on. Say it once. Then, we'll take a shower, get the sex off us, and I'll walk you back to your portal or whatever it is." His fingers squeeze hers. "Come on, just once. For me."

Kara clears her throat.

"You invited me into the…" he prompts.

"I invited y-you into the…P-p-pussy of Steel." 

He laughs loudly and pulls their joined hands up to his mouth. Pressing a kiss to the back of her hand, he whispers, "It wasn't that hard to say, was it?"

Kara starts laughing then, too. When she gets a hold of herself, she says, "I've literally had the best time ever with you."

"Good," he says firmly. "Next time I'm in town, I'll send you a message. If you're still single…" He shrugs like it doesn't matter one way or another, but his eyes tell another story.

An hour later, as Kara walks back through the portal, she kinda hopes she's available when that call comes in.


End file.
